Steve: The Specimen Bred in the Zoo
by Cally Chloe
Summary: One-Shot: The point of view from the snake in the zoo. Steve finds out that parseltongues are real.


_A/N- Hello, and welcome, to my very first one-shot! I know what you're thinking: Shouldn't she be working on her other story? Well, in case you didn't get the memo, I am quite lazy and a terrible terrible procrastinator. This is mostly just to assure you all that I'm still alive, and that I'm sorry for putting my story off for so long. Also, I have been getting many one-shot ideas lately. Expect more. _

_Disclaimer- I own nothing! It is all JKR's! (Well, except for anything you don't recognize...)_

Steve grumbled to himself as he shifted, trying to get comfortable. Though who could ever get comfortable in this place?

Arteficial light, children laughing and shreiking, practically living in a box. Yeah, that's a wonderful life. Just great.

At first, he had prided himself on finally becoming the biggest in the exibit. It was quite an honor, when all the kids - mostly boys - would seek him out specifically. Steve had held himself proudly, straight and tall, and showed how he could break the solitary log in his tank by wrapping himself around it and squeezing it. That would teach _it_ to be less bumpy...

But day after day of the same old thing, Steve began to tire of this. He was kept up almost all day, and those incessant lights NEVER went off! Was it too much to ask for some sleep in this place?

So, Steve began a new thing. The plan, "Pretend to Sleep and Fool People Into Thinking I'm Boring So They'll Leave Me Alone" was in effect. He was proud of his plan. It was fool proof. And it had a nice title. Really rolled off the tongue.

So when two boys - one rather... _large_, to put it politely - ambled over to his tank, his daily plan was in effect. He had his eyes closed, and he was facing away from the glass, just in case.

Now, it was a little known fact, but snakes can't actually hear. They feel vibrations, and then translate them into sounds. He "felt" the large boy press his face to the glass, by the quiet squeaking it made when he talked. Probably smearing the glass, too, the great child...

"Make it move," the boy whined. There was a tap on the glass, that gave a much larger echo than should be possible. Steve would have flinched, but he had been practicing. He didn't move.

"Do it again," The boy said, and it sounded more like a demand. Steve was sickened. Nevertheless, the tapping was louder and sharper this time, at it took more effort not to move at the sound. Wasn't there supposed to be a sign that said, "Don't tap on the glass?"

"This is boring..." The boy moaned, and Steve congratulated himself with his success. The boy was moving away. He could feel his heavy footsteps. But then there was a smaller one, closer to him. He thought at first that it was just his friend that looked like a rat, but after a few moments, there was no tapping, no noise, but he knew a person was still there.

If his scales could rise on the back of his head from being watched, they would have. It was a tad uncomfortable, the feeling of being watched. Sure, he had been watched before, but he knew they were there. They had usually made some sort of noise or tapped on the glass - god how he hated that! - but this was different.

Carefully, he opened his eyes and turned towards the glass. An extremely skinny boy stood there, just looking at him. Steve assumed he had been there with the huge boy, his friend, and his father. The large boy must have hidden him. It shouldn't have been a problem. This boy was so thin and small compared to the other boy he looked like a twig!

Steve slowly rose, taking in the boy as he did so. His hair was messy and black, and stood up all over the place. Steve almost chuckled. The boy's eyes were a shocking green, a brighter shade than Steve's mother, and _that_ was saying something.

What got him though, was that - besides the shock from seeing him rise - the boy's expression was pitying. Full of concern. As if he knew what Steve had to go through, day in and day out. Finally, Steve was eye-level. Before he knew what he was doing, he winked at the boy.

Shock took over his expression now, and he stared openly at Steve. He glanced from side to side, then back at Steve, and winked back.

Steve was pleased with himself. There weren't many people who could tell when snakes did that sort of thing. In fact, Steve had never met one. But there was always this rumor going around with all the snakes. That there were people who could understand and talk to them. Could this boy actually be one of them?

To test his theory, Steve tried something else. He spotted the large boy from earlier and his father across the dark reptile house, watching a lizard who Steve knew was basking in the glory of having attention on him now that Steve was boring. Steve jerked his head at the two and raised his eyes to the ceiling, trying to convey that they were usual people to him. He got that all the time.

The boy seemed to understand, though, because he followed Steve's gaze and mumbled, "I know. It must be really annoying."

It was Steve's turn to be shocked. Sure, he understood human language. How could you not living in a zoo? But when the boy spoke it was clearer than any human he had ever heard. He was sure he was hissing. After his shock though, Steve nodded vigorously, now very excited.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" The boy asked. Steve knew the boy wouldn't be able to hear him with the glass in the way, so he jabbed the end of his tail at the sign on the tank. He was from Brazil. His parents were actually born there, but they were captured and brought here instead. Originally, Steve had been named Estabon, but since they had been moved here, Steve was the English version of his name. He had often wondered what it was like in Brazil, with miles and miles of wide open forest, no arteficial light and glass walls.

He saw the boy's lips move as he read the sign. Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?" The boy asked next, and Steve had to admire his consideration. Here the boy was, just chatting it up with a snake. Steve wondered if he knew that he was speaking snake-language, and if he knew how strange and unusual it was.

Steve almost sighed at he jabbed his tail at the sign again, and the boy read farther down.

This specimen was bred in the zoo.

"Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil?" Steve took in the sad and pitying note to his voice. It was nice to be cared about for once. Sure, the zookeepers gave him his daily mouse, but they never cared about his feelings like this insignifigant little boy.

Steve shook his head sadly, and it looked like the boy was about to say something else when a loud shout behind him made them both jump. Steve, who had gotten used to his regular language, almost couldn't make the transition back to human, and was only able to hear part of the shout.

"DUDLEY! MR. .... COME AND ... SNAKE! ... WON'T _BELIEVE_ ... DOING!"

But Steve cought enough to figure that someone had seen him conversing with the boy, and now that he was seemingly awake, he couldn't pretend to sleep again, or the tapping and shouting would never cease. He looked at the surprised boy, and then to the large boy from before, who was so fat he waddled over to the glass.

"Out of the way, you." He said to the boy, and Steve saw him punch the boy in the ribs. Steve was outraged that the large boy had hit his - could they be called friends? - friend, and Steve saw the boy fall to the floor. He looked winded, and Steve thought that the large boy may have broken the smaller boy's rib, or perhaps his head had cracked on the hard concrete floor.

Steve rose up even higher and tried to look menacing at the two boys who pressed their faces against his tank, but they had barely seen anything before they jumped back with howls of shock and horror. Steve would have done the same. The glass had dissapeared.

How? He spared a glance at the boy on the floor, and knew - how he had no idea - that he must have done it.

Steve began to uncoil himself quickly, so that the zookeepers couldn't catch him in time. He felt satisfaction at the screams coming from the humans as they ran towards the exits. He thought briefly on taking his revenge on the two boys - perhaps biting off a leg or squeezing them to death - but decided against it. He wouldn't be able to get out in time. So he snapped at their heels as he passed them, taking pride at the unmanly squeals that produced.

He looked at the boy, still sitting in shock on the ground, and said to him as he passed, "Brazil, here I come... thanksss amigo." The 'S' more pronounced than anything, and 'amigo' because if he was going to Brazil, he would have to get used to spanish again.

How he was going to get to Brazil, he had no idea - but he would. He slid passed the people who were left, those who were standing there in shock or for some reason believe that if they stayed still he wouldn't see them. Ha. That was a good one.

The last thing he heard was the zoo keeper of the reptile house saying, "But the glass, where did the glass go?" as Steve slipped out of the exit to the house and breathed in his first sip of fresh air.

Boy would he have something to tell the Brazillian snakes. Parseltongues _were_ real. And so were wizards.


End file.
